Harry Potter: Severus/Sirius
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Severus/Sirius
Rating: NC-17
Author's Notes: Set directly after Sirius has set Severus up to get mauled by werewolf!Remus and James has saved him. This is what happened next.
Warnings: hate!sex, dc, guilt and angst. Majorly dark!fic
For three days, they thought that he was permanently insane.
That first night, the thought that they might have had one - possibly two, even three - dead students (for the Ministry could have demanded Remus’s execution if he’d been held responsible) consumed the minds of the staff. Sirius barely impinged on their consciousness. He had told his tale - the entire, sordid story - in a voice that could hardly raise itself from a whisper. Universally condemned, he was universally ignored. James - the hero; Severus - the victim; Remus - the innocent party: they were of prime concern. The first two lay in the hospital wing; Remus alone in the Shack. Sirius was isolated from everyone, and then left alone. When they saw him at midday the following day, he had lost his voice and reason. He sat, shaking, in the corner, eyes open but unseeing, white to the point of greenness in face.
Nothing and no one got through to him. The Headmaster tried. James tried. Madam Pomfrey - Professor McGonagall - Professor Binns (oh, faint hope!) tried. Remus refused to go near him, and fearing a second student would lose his mind, they did not press him. Sirius neither ate nor drank.
On the fourth day, Severus Snape walked through his door. For the first time, recognition flared in Sirius’s eyes.
“You’re dead,” he said hoarsely. “You’re dead. I killed you.”
Snape’s face showed no expression.
“Welcome to Hell.”
Sirius kept looking - staring and staring at Severus.
“You’re dead.”
“You’ve got a debt to pay.”
Sirius nodded. His face was paler even than Severus’s.
“I’ll pay,” he whispered.
“You’ll pay on your knees.”
A small, half-hysterical, laugh came from Sirius.
“I’m already on them.”
Snape looked. Sirius was, indeed, kneeling in the corner of the room. A twisted smile crossed Severus’s face.
“That’s just the beginning, Black. We’ve a long way to go yet. Remember, this is Hell. Your own, personal Hell, and I own it. I own you.”
“I killed you.”
Snape sneered.
“No, Black, you were too much of a coward for that. You set me up for your werewolf ‘friend’ to kill. You didn’t have the guts to do it yourself.”
Sirius was sobbing and yelling frenziedly.
“It was YOUR fault. You must have known something was wrong, you must have realised it was a trap. I …. Oh God.”
The sobs wracked his body. Severus looked on emotionlessly.
“You always were a coward. Too cowardly to kill me yourself; too cowardly to accept responsibility; too cowardly to take your punishment.”
“No.” Sirius’s lips framed the word, but no sound came out.
“No?”
“What do you want?” Sirius mumbled.
Severus’s eyes narrowed.
“This is Hell, Black. Hell. What do you think I want from you?”
“Life. A life for a life.”
Snape paused, head on one side as if considering the option. Then
“Too quick,” he rejected.
“What, then?”
There was a long agonising moment when Severus looked at him without speaking.
“You,” he said finally, coldly. “You, broken and begging on the floor at my feet. I want you.”
Sirius’s head dropped forwards and he fell onto all fours. His hair was matted and unkempt, his limbs still trembling.
“Welcome to Hell, Sirius,” breathed Snape.
“I’m already there.”
“No. Oh no. You’re only just beginning to get there.”
Severus strode forward, grasping a fistful of Sirius’s hair in one hand, pulling his head back until their eyes met once more.
“Are you going to beg me for mercy?” he asked cruelly.
“Do you have any?”
“For scum like you?” Severus’s lip curled. “I doubt it, Black. But you owe it to me to ask.”
He watched with malicious satisfaction as Sirius’s face reflected his thoughts - a tangled mass of memories too painful to unravel.
“Oh God,” said Sirius; and it sounded like a real prayer.
“There’s no God here. There’s no one but me.” Severus laughed mockingly. “I’m your only chance of survival.”
“I’m asking,” Sirius said in low tones.
“Asking what?” He would pull it from Sirius, word for word. He would take as long as necessary to watch him crumble.
“Mercy.”
Severus kicked him away.
“You’ve a lot more begging to do yet.”
Sirius was half-lying on the ground, curled up in the foetus position. Snape watched him as he lay; watched and waited.
“Tell me what you want.” Sirius’s voice was pleading.
Severus stayed silent.
“Tell me what you want, and I’ll do it.”
The words hung in the air between them. Severus watched a tear trickle across Sirius’s face, and felt no pity.
“Beg me.”
“Please. Please, Severus.”
Every trace of the cocky, handsome Sirius Black seemed wiped from his visage. This Sirius was living a nightmare of his own devising, and could see no way out. Tear-stained and wan, he pushed himself to kneeling position again in front of Severus.
“Help me,” he whispered; and oh, the irony was not lost on Snape. The boy who had tried to kill him was kneeling at his feet, begging for his aid. “I’ll do anything.”
“Anything?”
Sirius bowed his head in submission. Severus gazed in silence, savouring the moment. Black. Arrogant, pure-blood Black, who had turned his back on his own family… now forced to kneel to the boy he had despised more than any other.
“I’ve heard,” he said with menacing quietness; “I’ve heard that you are… talented, in your own field. I want to see proof.”
Sirius was uncomprehending. Severus pushed aside his robes and stood over him, unmoving and hard. Sirius’s eyes widened in understanding, but he said desperately
“Girls. I know about girls.”
“You’d better hope that you’re a quick learner,” mocked Severus.
There was no chance of Sirius refusing. He had known that before making the demand. Sirius was in his power; would do anything he asked. Obediently, Sirius lifted his neck, taking Severus’s erection into his mouth. Severus could feel through their connection that Sirius was shaking with - fear? nerves? desperation? - but he had no mercy. Not for this boy. Not for him.
Sirius’s breath was gasping out of his nose as he slid wetly back and forth. Severus put one hand behind his head and thrust deep and hard into his mouth. Sirius choked; gasped; recovered. Domination was Snape’s now; he controlled the movement, the depth, the speed. Sirius was but a vessel for him, and Severus watched with contempt as Sirius tried not to gag as Severus fucked his mouth. Sirius’s eyes beseeched what his mouth, filled as it was, could not: Please, please; but Severus was not interested. He was close to coming when he pulled away, leaving Sirius panting weakly in front of him.
“Now get on the floor like the dog you are.”
He heard Sirius’s gasp, and ignored it. He pushed him away, onto all fours, and lifted his robes to expose his arse.
“Beg me to fuck you,” he ordered.
Sirius was a mass of half-suppressed sobs and hitched breathing. His eyes were screwed shut, and his fingers dug into the hard floor.
“Hell, Black,” Severus said harshly. “Hell.”
Sirius’s head sank until it touched the ground, his forehead hot against the cold stone. He would never be the same.
“Please…” There was a hand in his hair again, holding him, pulling him.
“Please, what?”
“Fuck me. Fuck me. Please. Oh God.”
The last words were so quiet as to be barely audible, but Snape heard them. He thrust into Sirius with no preparation, and the boy’s scream was music to his ears.
“Does that hurt, Black? Am I tearing you in two, as the wolf would have torn at me?” Severus had no mercy, no tenderness within him.
Sirius caught a sobbing breath.
“Do you deserve this, Black?” Severus demanded viciously.
The sob was let out as Severus withdrew, then pushed in again.
“Do you?”
“Yes. Oh God have mercy. Yes.”
Severus pressed harder, faster; Sirius was splitting in front of his eyes; yet Severus knew that through the pain, Sirius was beginning to find a pleasure that shamed and hurt him more than any bodily torture. With deliberate intention, he thrust against Sirius’s prostate; and this time when Sirius cried out, it was a humiliating ecstasy that led him.
“Oh… Oh…!”
Severus’s hand was on his cock, and Sirius was hard and… wanting. Severus could see the tears dripping from Sirius’s face: tears and sweat mingled as he cried his agony and his ecstasy as one.
“Please, Severus;” and this plea was not led by guilt, but by desperate throbbing lust.
And Severus touched him and thrust within him until Sirius came with a cry that told of distress and shame as much as desire. And then - and only then - Severus reached his own peak, pulsing inside Sirius until his own breath was shallow and harsh.
And then he pulled Sirius round, and looked deep into his eyes, and knew that the madness had vanished.
“Your own, personal Hell,” he said callously; and left him.
Pairing: Severus/Sirius
Rating: NC-17
Author's Notes: Set directly after Sirius has set Severus up to get mauled by werewolf!Remus and James has saved him. This is what happened next.
Warnings: hate!sex, dc, guilt and angst. Majorly dark!fic
For three days, they thought that he was permanently insane.
That first night, the thought that they might have had one - possibly two, even three - dead students (for the Ministry could have demanded Remus’s execution if he’d been held responsible) consumed the minds of the staff. Sirius barely impinged on their consciousness. He had told his tale - the entire, sordid story - in a voice that could hardly raise itself from a whisper. Universally condemned, he was universally ignored. James - the hero; Severus - the victim; Remus - the innocent party: they were of prime concern. The first two lay in the hospital wing; Remus alone in the Shack. Sirius was isolated from everyone, and then left alone. When they saw him at midday the following day, he had lost his voice and reason. He sat, shaking, in the corner, eyes open but unseeing, white to the point of greenness in face.
Nothing and no one got through to him. The Headmaster tried. James tried. Madam Pomfrey - Professor McGonagall - Professor Binns (oh, faint hope!) tried. Remus refused to go near him, and fearing a second student would lose his mind, they did not press him. Sirius neither ate nor drank.
On the fourth day, Severus Snape walked through his door. For the first time, recognition flared in Sirius’s eyes.
“You’re dead,” he said hoarsely. “You’re dead. I killed you.”
Snape’s face showed no expression.
“Welcome to Hell.”
Sirius kept looking - staring and staring at Severus.
“You’re dead.”
“You’ve got a debt to pay.”
Sirius nodded. His face was paler even than Severus’s.
“I’ll pay,” he whispered.
“You’ll pay on your knees.”
A small, half-hysterical, laugh came from Sirius.
“I’m already on them.”
Snape looked. Sirius was, indeed, kneeling in the corner of the room. A twisted smile crossed Severus’s face.
“That’s just the beginning, Black. We’ve a long way to go yet. Remember, this is Hell. Your own, personal Hell, and I own it. I own you.”
“I killed you.”
Snape sneered.
“No, Black, you were too much of a coward for that. You set me up for your werewolf ‘friend’ to kill. You didn’t have the guts to do it yourself.”
Sirius was sobbing and yelling frenziedly.
“It was YOUR fault. You must have known something was wrong, you must have realised it was a trap. I …. Oh God.”
The sobs wracked his body. Severus looked on emotionlessly.
“You always were a coward. Too cowardly to kill me yourself; too cowardly to accept responsibility; too cowardly to take your punishment.”
“No.” Sirius’s lips framed the word, but no sound came out.
“No?”
“What do you want?” Sirius mumbled.
Severus’s eyes narrowed.
“This is Hell, Black. Hell. What do you think I want from you?”
“Life. A life for a life.”
Snape paused, head on one side as if considering the option. Then
“Too quick,” he rejected.
“What, then?”
There was a long agonising moment when Severus looked at him without speaking.
“You,” he said finally, coldly. “You, broken and begging on the floor at my feet. I want you.”
Sirius’s head dropped forwards and he fell onto all fours. His hair was matted and unkempt, his limbs still trembling.
“Welcome to Hell, Sirius,” breathed Snape.
“I’m already there.”
“No. Oh no. You’re only just beginning to get there.”
Severus strode forward, grasping a fistful of Sirius’s hair in one hand, pulling his head back until their eyes met once more.
“Are you going to beg me for mercy?” he asked cruelly.
“Do you have any?”
“For scum like you?” Severus’s lip curled. “I doubt it, Black. But you owe it to me to ask.”
He watched with malicious satisfaction as Sirius’s face reflected his thoughts - a tangled mass of memories too painful to unravel.
“Oh God,” said Sirius; and it sounded like a real prayer.
“There’s no God here. There’s no one but me.” Severus laughed mockingly. “I’m your only chance of survival.”
“I’m asking,” Sirius said in low tones.
“Asking what?” He would pull it from Sirius, word for word. He would take as long as necessary to watch him crumble.
“Mercy.”
Severus kicked him away.
“You’ve a lot more begging to do yet.”
Sirius was half-lying on the ground, curled up in the foetus position. Snape watched him as he lay; watched and waited.
“Tell me what you want.” Sirius’s voice was pleading.
Severus stayed silent.
“Tell me what you want, and I’ll do it.”
The words hung in the air between them. Severus watched a tear trickle across Sirius’s face, and felt no pity.
“Beg me.”
“Please. Please, Severus.”
Every trace of the cocky, handsome Sirius Black seemed wiped from his visage. This Sirius was living a nightmare of his own devising, and could see no way out. Tear-stained and wan, he pushed himself to kneeling position again in front of Severus.
“Help me,” he whispered; and oh, the irony was not lost on Snape. The boy who had tried to kill him was kneeling at his feet, begging for his aid. “I’ll do anything.”
“Anything?”
Sirius bowed his head in submission. Severus gazed in silence, savouring the moment. Black. Arrogant, pure-blood Black, who had turned his back on his own family… now forced to kneel to the boy he had despised more than any other.
“I’ve heard,” he said with menacing quietness; “I’ve heard that you are… talented, in your own field. I want to see proof.”
Sirius was uncomprehending. Severus pushed aside his robes and stood over him, unmoving and hard. Sirius’s eyes widened in understanding, but he said desperately
“Girls. I know about girls.”
“You’d better hope that you’re a quick learner,” mocked Severus.
There was no chance of Sirius refusing. He had known that before making the demand. Sirius was in his power; would do anything he asked. Obediently, Sirius lifted his neck, taking Severus’s erection into his mouth. Severus could feel through their connection that Sirius was shaking with - fear? nerves? desperation? - but he had no mercy. Not for this boy. Not for him.
Sirius’s breath was gasping out of his nose as he slid wetly back and forth. Severus put one hand behind his head and thrust deep and hard into his mouth. Sirius choked; gasped; recovered. Domination was Snape’s now; he controlled the movement, the depth, the speed. Sirius was but a vessel for him, and Severus watched with contempt as Sirius tried not to gag as Severus fucked his mouth. Sirius’s eyes beseeched what his mouth, filled as it was, could not: Please, please; but Severus was not interested. He was close to coming when he pulled away, leaving Sirius panting weakly in front of him.
“Now get on the floor like the dog you are.”
He heard Sirius’s gasp, and ignored it. He pushed him away, onto all fours, and lifted his robes to expose his arse.
“Beg me to fuck you,” he ordered.
Sirius was a mass of half-suppressed sobs and hitched breathing. His eyes were screwed shut, and his fingers dug into the hard floor.
“Hell, Black,” Severus said harshly. “Hell.”
Sirius’s head sank until it touched the ground, his forehead hot against the cold stone. He would never be the same.
“Please…” There was a hand in his hair again, holding him, pulling him.
“Please, what?”
“Fuck me. Fuck me. Please. Oh God.”
The last words were so quiet as to be barely audible, but Snape heard them. He thrust into Sirius with no preparation, and the boy’s scream was music to his ears.
“Does that hurt, Black? Am I tearing you in two, as the wolf would have torn at me?” Severus had no mercy, no tenderness within him.
Sirius caught a sobbing breath.
“Do you deserve this, Black?” Severus demanded viciously.
The sob was let out as Severus withdrew, then pushed in again.
“Do you?”
“Yes. Oh God have mercy. Yes.”
Severus pressed harder, faster; Sirius was splitting in front of his eyes; yet Severus knew that through the pain, Sirius was beginning to find a pleasure that shamed and hurt him more than any bodily torture. With deliberate intention, he thrust against Sirius’s prostate; and this time when Sirius cried out, it was a humiliating ecstasy that led him.
“Oh… Oh…!”
Severus’s hand was on his cock, and Sirius was hard and… wanting. Severus could see the tears dripping from Sirius’s face: tears and sweat mingled as he cried his agony and his ecstasy as one.
“Please, Severus;” and this plea was not led by guilt, but by desperate throbbing lust.
And Severus touched him and thrust within him until Sirius came with a cry that told of distress and shame as much as desire. And then - and only then - Severus reached his own peak, pulsing inside Sirius until his own breath was shallow and harsh.
And then he pulled Sirius round, and looked deep into his eyes, and knew that the madness had vanished.
“Your own, personal Hell,” he said callously; and left him.